Checkmate
by LittleBlondeGoth
Summary: Sacrificing the Queen in order to win the game: A meeting between Anora and Elissa, after the Landsmeet. Companion piece to "Knife Ears".


_A/N: Companion piece to "Knife Ears", this is a meeting between two women, both strong, Teyrns' daughters. Elissa Cousland and Anora, after the Landsmeet, one of whom is royally pissed. And frankly, whatever you might think of Anora, I don't think anyone can blame her for that._

_I've always been of the opinion that there's convincing arguments either way as to who you pick at the Landsmeet. And just as convincing reasons against both. Reaching a final decision isn't easy. Ultimately, I don't think there's a right or a wrong choice to be made at the Landsmeet, just a choice. _

oOo

From here, high up in the tower, Anora could hear armies mobilising in the city below. The shouting of commands, the clattering of steel shod feet, the ring of weapons. It grated on her nerves. This should be _her_army. Hah. A few days ago it _had_ been her army. Her father had always declared that a week was a long time in politics and she reflected bitterly on just how right those words had been proven.

Her quill scratched across the paper in front of her with furious speed, composing another missive as an attempt to rally her support. Correspondence was her only real option for now - there was precious little else she could do, trapped as she was. Not that she'd been mistreated by any means. Anora had been afforded luxury and deference denied to every other poor sap held at His Majesty's pleasure; given airy quarters, books, clothing. At first glance she could have been any visiting noble staying at the Palace. Except that under normal circumstances, visiting nobles didn't have steel bars secured across the windows and a locking mechanism that dwarfed the door upon which it sat. Not to mention a brace of guards posted outside in the corridor, all of whom were exquisitely courteous… And frustratingly stubborn in not letting her set so much as a foot outside.

No, a gilded cage this might be, but that did not make it any less of a cage. The quill point stabbed out a full stop. She was powerless and everything now rested on the untried, untested bastard downstairs and whether or not he'd have the decency to fall against the invading darkspawn.

Anora frowned; it pained her to concede that at least he'd made a wise decision on that front. Realistically, the Blight and Archdemon would no doubt finish him off before any official coronation could take place, which would give the new King one of the shortest reigns in Ferelden history. By keeping her cloistered away in the Palace tower, he had at least planned for that contingency, paving the way for her to reclaim her throne in the event of his demise.

Up until now, she wouldn't have credited him with that much brain. She also didn't think she would have made the same decision; letting him run off to his little war if she'd kept the crown? After all, she wouldn't have been placing herself on the front line like he was, so there wasn't the same risk. Far better to have eliminated any contest straight away. If she had remained Queen, Alistair Theirin wouldn't have left the Landsmeet alive, especially after what he'd done to…

The heavy chink of sliding metal broke her train of thought before it could travel too far down that particular line. She turned round in her chair, to see the bolts on the door being opened and one of her guards enter, hand resting on sword hilt.

"You have a visitor, my lady" he said in neutral tones. Anora glared back at him, irritated yet again by the loss of the "Majesty" to which she had become accustomed over the years. The guard seemed oblivious to her glower, instead holding her gaze for a few moments before turning to speak to someone still in the corridor.

"Would you like me to remain inside with you?"

"No, thank you. You can wait outside, I'll be fine on my own."

Anora's entire body tensed at the sound of the reply, and without conscious thought she gripped her quill tighter. There was no mistaking that voice. She would remember it until the day she died as the one who gave the throne to _someone__else_.

Acquiescing to the request with a deferential bow, the soldier on the door pushed it open slightly further, to allow the visitor entry. A woman stepped in, not clothed in finery as most of the nobles were including Anora herself, but instead in well-worn leather armour, a sword strapped to her back and dagger at her waist. Everything about her suggested that she did indeed have no use for the guards' assistance. She kept her head turned to the man as he retreated from the room, quietly thanking him when he pulled the door closed again behind her.

Anora kept her eyes level, but refused to rise as one is technically supposed to in the presence of royalty. She might be a prisoner but she would not give this woman the pleasure of seeing her as one. Not that she was doing much, now she was here, just standing there quietly. Anora decided to take the initiative.

"So what is this?" she asked in acid tones. "Come to gloat over me in your hour of victory?"

A slight shake of the head. "No, it's not that. I… I'm not really sure why I'm here, actually." For someone who had stood unwaveringly in front of the Landsmeet and now commanded the armies of Ferelden, Anora thought that the young woman in the doorway seemed remarkably uncertain of herself. Still, she was a political animal to the core, and knew far better than to drop her guard just because her opponent looked uneasy. If anything, she raised it even higher. She watched as Elissa Cousland stood there, silent for a few moments, gathering her thoughts. When the Warden next spoke, it was with what seemed like genuine concern and interest. "You are being treated well? Given everything you need?"

Anora sniffed, carefully placing her letter into an envelope and sealing it with a blob of wax. "Aside from my freedom and my throne, you mean?" She pushed a signet ring into the seal, with slightly more pressure than was really required. Under the circumstances she would be civil, but she decided there was absolutely no need to hide her anger and contempt for the Cousland upstart.

The upstart in question looked round the room before taking a seat in one of the cushioned chairs near the bookcase. "The throne does not belong to you. It's not given simply because someone wants it, Anora" she answered. "If that were the case, every man in the land would be knocking on the Palace gates demanding his turn. The crown passes from father to son, as well you know. And when there is no son…" As the past few days had determined, _that's_ when the succession got complicated.

In any case, for all the Queen's blustering over 'her' crown, Elissa couldn't ignore the fact that Cailan's body wasn't even cold before Loghain was declaring himself regent. If anything, Anora's own father was usurping the throne before anyone else even got a look in. But then, Anora could be willfully blind when she chose to be, and carried on as if the Warden had not spoken.

"And how quickly it was that you forgot your promise." If Elissa had been hoping that a few days of confinement would soften the edges of Anora's pique, then she was sorely mistaken. "Or did my ears deceive me when you offered me your support in the days before?" Forgive and forget were words clearly not a part of the former Queen's vocabulary right now.

Elissa shook her head slowly. "I did not lie to you, Anora" she replied with a sigh. "Truth be told, I walked into the Landsmeet fully intending to give you what you wanted. And if we were not in the middle of a Blight, then I would have."

"Yet you changed your mind." The womans' tone was icy. "How… convenient."

"Convenient?" Elissa spluttered in disbelief. "I did what I had to do, for the good of Ferelden! The country needs a ruler who knows what we're up against; how to fight the Blight, the darkspawn, the Archdemon!" _Because__only__the__Wardens__know__what's__ahead__of__us_, she added silently. _Only__we__know__the__overwhelming__odds__that__we__must__overcome,__and__only__we__have__seen__the__price__of__failure_. Unbidden, an image of the Broodmother bubbled to the surface of her thoughts. It was easier to bear if she named it that, rather than thinking on the dwarf woman it had once been. Easier, like choosing which to lose, a leg or an arm… She forced herself to concentrate on the matter at hand. "We need a King to lead us through war, not a Queen to keep us in peace."

If Anora had sounded chill before, now her voice could have put one of Morrigans' Blizzard spells to shame. "The good of _Ferelden_?" Blue eyes bored into Elissa. "Forgive me if I do not believe you this time around. Your motives are quite clear, _your__Majesty_."

It took a moment for the pointed barbs to sink in. "Majesty…? You think I did this for the _power_ ? That _that's_ what I care about?" Incredulous, Elissa marvelled at just how wide of the mark Anora truly was. It was almost laughable – she was spread so thinly she imagined people could see right through her, yet someone like Anora Mac Tir saw every move as one designed to increase influence. Perhaps because that was what _she_ would have done.

The former Queen looked scathing. "As the old saying goes, fool me once, shame on me. Fool me twice… By throwing your lot in with Maric's bastard, you managed to elevate yourself at the same time. And once more, we are back to just how _convenient_ that is."

"I am Teyrna of Highever and a Grey Warden" Elissa answered, standing to turn away and pace the length of the room slowly. She didn't want Anora to see the hurt crossing her eyes as she thought of how she'd ended up with those titles. Even after his death, Howe's treacherous acts against her parents pained her more than she'd like to admit. And becoming a Grey Warden was in itself a death sentence, though she had not known the full extent at her Joining. Not to mention the nagging inner voice that reminded her there was still an Archdemon to kill. The idea that everything she had done was a ploy to make a grab for the crown was an affront to her sensibilities "I have all the power I need, believe me, and I have paid a heavy price for it. No, I do not wish for more."

The Queen crossed her arms delicately over her chest. "Yet you announced your intention to rule by his side" she pointed out.

Elissa spun round, finger jabbing accusingly at the woman seated opposite. "And what would you have had me do, Anora?" she hissed. " Tell _you_ to marry him instead?" Her temper was gradually slipping away from her control, she knew, but she was getting to the point where she didn't much care anymore. If Anora had already decided to be unpleasant, well two could play at that game. And only one of them had had the dubious benefit of taking Advanced Button Pushing from the Morrigan School of Manipulation for the past year. So she pressed home her advantage. "Marry the brother of your dead husband? Who looks _so_ much like Cailan? Who killed your own fath…"

"Enough!" Hand slamming hard against the wooden desk next to her, Anora shot to her feet, eyes flashing with fury. It was only seeing the Warden automatically reaching for her sword at the approach of danger that stopped her advancing more than a few steps. Lips pursed the Queen stilled herself, though the simmering anger was still plainly written across her features. "Enough" she repeated. "If all you have come here for is to taunt and remind me of my father's murder, then I suggest you leave immediately, for there is nothing more to be said." Turning away from her visitor, she glided over to the window, a perfect study in aloofness.

Taking a deep breath, Elissa also forced herself to relax, ignoring the obviously implied dismissal. Months of fighting darkspawn had her jumping at the slightest movement, and that was no way to behave around nobles. Easing her twitching hand away from her weapon, she clasped them in front of her instead. "Peace, Anora. I did not mean to… All I wanted was to explain, I couldn't have asked you to do that." Nor could she have stood for it herself, in truth; the idea of seeing her beloved foisted off onto someone else turned her stomach. "To make a woman, _any_ woman, who has just lost her husband… " Her head shook again. "No. That's no solution at all."

In fact, 'no solution at all' had pretty much summed up the vast majority of the Landsmeet as far as the young Warden was concerned. Just when she thought she had a handle on things, something else had blown up in her face and it was back to square one. Allowing Loghain to cement his regency… Well, that hadn't even been a consideration. Everything she and Alistair had done over the past year had been with the intent to remove him and mete out due punishment, and there could have been no going back on that point. Alistair himself had been keen to put Eamon forward as a candidate, but common sense had told her they'd never push that through, even had the old Arl agreed to it. Which had left the only two viable contenders as the King's widow and the bastard prince.

She had indeed been honest with Anora, at least to a point. After the Queen had been freed from the clutches of Rendon Howe, they had talked briefly about the plans for the Landsmeet. Elissa knew full well the weight that Anora's voice carried, and had been excruciatingly careful not to antagonise the woman. She'd deftly skirted round the hatred she personally had for Loghain – that had been like dancing on thin ice and no mistake – and concentrated on keeping the Queen placated. At that moment in time, despite her reservations, she had been leaning towards letting Anora keep the throne she so desperately desired. After all, Elissa had spent Maker only knows how many months watching Maric's son duck, dive and do anything he could to avoid his birthright, why not let it go to someone who actually wanted it? So she had agreed to lend her own support to Anora's claim. It was only as events came to a head that she'd taken one long, last look at all the evidence in front of her, and found the situation wanting.

She'd walked into the Landsmeet chamber hoping only to influence the gathered nobles and see justice served. She'd walked out a Kingmaker. The one thing she never expected was to be handed the final decision. Nothing had prepared her for that; nor for the endless agonising afterwards over whether that decision had been the right one.

Elissa sighed. "You weren't entirely wrong, you know" she admitted wearily. "In some ways Alistair is very naïve. He doesn't understand politics like you do. Like I do." She sat down heavily in the chair again, and Anora was suddenly struck by how tired she seemed. "He will need someone to guide him in these things, and I do not think Eamon can always be trusted to do what is best."

The Queen raised elegantly arched eyebrows. "At least then there is one thing we can agree on" she murmured under her breath.

A humourless smile touched Elissa's mouth. "Perhaps we are more similar than either of us might like. But the fact remains he needs that support. And in time he will also need a wife. You loved Cailan, did you not?"

"I did." Anora's voice was tight. Though their marital situation may have been far from rosy, there had been something between Cailan and his Queen, once. It was difficult for her to define what it was though – they had been betrothed to one another ever since she could remember; she had never entertained thoughts of another simply because her path had already been set in stone by her father. Cailan had been gallant and charming, traits she had been fond of. Unfortunately, Anora was not the only one – several young ladies of the court had also found them highly entertaining, and since Cailan hadn't been the model of discretion, she'd had to come to terms with his straying. Yes, she had loved him. She did still. But that love had been tarnished in a way that was beyond her ability to fix, and that fact alone saddened her more than she could admit.

She turned her attention back to Elissa, who was distractedly twisting her fingers as she spoke. "And I… I love Alistair. I loved him before I knew who he truly was." A small smile crept across the Wardens' face as a memory surfaced. "And when I _did_ find out I didn't know whether to kiss him, kill him or run for the Anderfels. But in the end, I would marry him King or no. As it is, his duty means that he should take the throne, so I shall stand with him when he does. Under any other circumstances, would you object to the union?"

Anora scowled. It wasn't enough that she had seen Maric's bastard kill her father, then take her throne. Nor that she had watched Elissa name herself Queen and Commander. Not even that she had been locked away in a tower to rot until she was forgotten. No, the damnable Grey Warden also had to rub in the fact that while Anora's husband had dallied with noble daughters and serving girls, Elissa's Theirin was a model of perfection who worshipped her and the ground she walked on.

Enough was enough.

She seated herself back at her desk, carefully arranging her skirts as if that were the most important thing in the world. "Then I wish you congratulations for your impending marriage" she answered coolly. Turning her back on the armed Warden, she pulled another sheet of vellum across the table, picked up her quill and delicately dipped it in the inkwell. "And now that all the social niceties have been observed, I would appreciate it if you took your leave. I have much to do. Goodbye Warden, I trust you can see yourself out."

Words flowed out onto the paper, the noise of the quill the only thing breaking the uncomfortable silence that had descended on the room. She could tell Elissa was still there, and pointedly continued her writing. After a few minutes, the clinking and creaking of armour told her that the Warden had finally given up and was leaving. Good.

Let the Wardens have their darkspawn and their army. She, Anora Mac Tir, would be here to pick up the pieces when they fell.

oOo

Elissa had never for a moment thought she'd actually be able to convince Anora that what the Wardens had done at the Landsmeet had been the right thing. She truly didn't know why she'd gone up there in the first place, but now she wondered if perhaps it hadn't been to convince herself, rather than the former Queen.

As a Cousland, she knew just as well as the next noble that politics was all about maneuvering, duty and sacrifices. But that hadn't meant it had been easy for her to hand Alistair the one thing he'd never wanted, or to watch as he swung his sword at Loghains' neck or ordered the Queen to be hauled away to the tower. Her own endless questioning of her actions had been troubling. They were fighting a Blight, was it right to crown a King then send him off to fight an Archdemon? Maybe they would have been better off giving Anora what she wanted and going their own way?

No. Talking with Anora had reassured her that she had done the best she could. Loghain's daughter was very much like her father; too much alike perhaps. Seeing Ferelden as a concept, an ideal to be preserved. Alistair saw the _people_, their struggles, pain and heartache, and wanted to help them. She nodded to herself. Sacrificing Anora was the only way. Ferelden needed Alistair, not an administrator.

It would be difficult, but it was a challenge they would at least face together. Her face clouded over – of course, there was still the matter of the Blight and the dragon and living through _that_…

Only time would tell if she'd made the right decision, and as the Blight closed in, she couldn't shake the feeling that her time was running out.


End file.
